


silver lining

by pigeonsatdawn



Series: fragments of hope [2]
Category: Purple Hyacinth - Ephemerys & Sophism (Webcomic)
Genre: Bittersweet, F/M, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:02:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27865806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pigeonsatdawn/pseuds/pigeonsatdawn
Summary: The nights are not so kind to most people, especially to the both of them.Yet in the midst of everything, they found their way to each other.
Relationships: Lauren Sinclair/Kieran White
Series: fragments of hope [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2040089
Comments: 16
Kudos: 74





	silver lining

**Author's Note:**

> hi i'm depressed and i do what i want. if you see me no you didn't.

**THE NIGHTS ARE** not so kind to most people. Most nights are filled with shadows in the streets, and inside ghosts haunt those who seek refuge from the shadows. Lauren Sinclair finds herself preferring the company of shadows, as she has learned to deal with it for most of her life. Some nights she runs from the ghosts, out on the streets, walking where her feet take her. Tonight, like many other similar nights, she runs for the docks. She has familiarized herself to the area, thanks to her nightly “dates” with Kieran White, where they plan to face the impending reality. But in the cracks of her attentiveness, she does not fail to notice the little flutters of freedom she experiences in the nooks and crannies of the docks. She keeps this in her mind as she navigates her way through the docks, knowing where is safe and where is not, skipping shadows as she strolls to the spot she has reserved in her mind.

She does not expect to see Kieran White himself, of all people, standing at the end of the pier, looking off into the distant sea, illuminated by the glittering reflection of moonlight.

Though usually she prefers to be alone, perhaps she can use a friend. Maybe it is how he seems to look relaxed, a sight that does not often accompany Kieran White, or maybe because he seems to be where he belongs, that she does not feel as bothered by him as she will if it is anyone else. Maybe she has simply grown used to his presence, or maybe she has come to realize that they are equally lonely in many ways. 

She is smiling to herself when he looks back at her. The assassin’s reflexes remain intact, even when he is allowing himself to feel in the ungodly hours of the night. He does not seem to tense at the sight of her, which she feels accurately represents her own disposition as well. They have come a long way in their journey, to the point of sharing each other’s pain, each other’s quiet moments. He even allows himself to give a little smile in return, waiting as she makes her way towards him in quiet steps, not wanting to disturb the tranquil waters ahead.

“Truly a child of the night, you are,” Kieran muses as she watches her settle down, sitting at the edge of the pier, dangling her legs as she stares ahead at the full moon. The night has graced them today, allowing a clear view of the astronomical bodies floating in space, unobstructed by the clouds. Lauren allows herself to get lost in the sight, hands behind her body propping its weight, head thrown to the back.

She lets out a sigh, graced by a little smile. “Funny you say that, actually. I’d just been dreaming of the sun,” she informs. “Well, my days in the sun.”

“Oh?” Kieran quips, and Lauren turns her head to look at his adorable expression. She knows he won’t pry if she doesn’t want to share, but she feels that they, children of the moon, children bound in loneliness, will be better off sharing what little warmth they have. So she pleads silently for him to join her. He catches this, and lowers himself to sit next to her, crossed-legged on the wooden planks. His hair, free, for once, sways along with the gentle wind of the night. Lauren admires the slow, wondrous sight for a while, before her gaze falls to her hands, fiddling with her airy skirt.

“I have nightmares,” she starts. Kieran, as she has expected, is quick to look at her with concern.

“You don’t have to—”

“Shhh,” she hushes, a finger on her lips. Kieran shuts her mouth, but the concern in his face is no less. She ignores this, and continues with her story. “I have nightmares. Well they’re not technically nightmares. They’re more like… memories of the past. Memories of better days.” As she says this, her gaze drifts once more into the horizon, to the point where the sea blurs with the sky, even more so because of the darkness. 

She knows Kieran has been hesitating, which brings an even bigger smile when she feels him place a hand on hers. “Do you… do you not like dreaming about them?”

“I don’t like being reminded of the sun,” she admits softly. “The sun burns bright because of the flames. At least with the moon, its light is not that of a fire.”

“Oh,” Kieran gasps softly. Lauren nods, solemn in reminiscence. 

“And when I’m reminded of the fire, my lungs fill itself with ashes, and I can barely breathe. So I find myself here, surrounded by water, out in the cold air. So that the feeling of this… invisible fire would just… dampen. Somehow.”

Kieran places his hand, that was on hers, to the top of her head, stroking it softly. “Do you feel better now?”

Lauren gives him a cheeky smirk. “The sight of you removes every other thought in my head, though I can’t say whether I do feel _better_.”

Kieran scowls, rolling his eyes. This elicits a hearty laugh from Lauren’s lips, echoing through the waves of the sea ahead of them. Kieran, though, seems to not have minded the sudden loudness; if anything, he grins a little too widely. She is caught off guard by its genuinity—while he has often smirked at her, he has so rarely shown her a true smile, one where he is _happy_ , more so than confident. 

He notices this, and turns his head away, facing the stars above, twinkling at the lonesome two. “It’s nice indeed, to be out here.”

“You look like an outdoors person,” Lauren notes, capturing his attention. He raises an eyebrow and she shrugs, explaining, “I don’t know. You look one with the sea. Maybe it’s the eyes.”

“Lauren Sinclair, you utterly suck at being poetic.”

She huffs. “I wasn’t trying to be poetic. I was simply stating an observation.”

“Well it’s certainly a very thoughtful observation,” Kieran smirks, and Lauren rolls her eyes. Leave it to Kieran White to deflect what is supposed to be a heartfelt conversation. 

“I’m sorry that I’m bad at articulating what I feel, but basically you remind me of the sea in many ways.”

“What, salty and bitter?”

Lauren sits upright, just so she can use her hand to smack his arm. Kieran gives her a faux-irritated look, but she simply sticks her tongue out, saying _you deserve it_. “No, more like…” Lauren’s expression falters, and she cocks her head, staring into his eyes deeply. “Layered. Interesting. Refreshing, and yet, terrifying.”

Kieran bends forward, extending an arm to reach the surface of the water, feeling its coldness. Then, hesitantly, he says, “I want to be like the sea, somehow.”

“How are you not like the sea?”

He looks off into the distance, eyes glazed in memory. “The sea is never restrained.”

Lauren takes a double take, and looks at him in pain. She does not expect him to reveal anything about himself—even if she has—and she does not quite know what to say. She knows he has his own scars, but she has never quite thought of what they could be, nor how to treat him if she ever comes close to knowing about them. 

Fortunately, that is not what he desires. He looks at her with a slight smile, and reassures her, “You don’t have to worry. It’s a thing of the past; there’s nothing you could’ve done about it.”

But Lauren knows it is so much more than a thing of the past. She knows that in whatever point of the timeline, Kieran White will always find himself bound to something. Whatever it is that bound him to the past has been the reason he turned out this way, and when he does something about it—which seems to be this Lune thing with her—he will have to face the consequences. Even if he frees himself of the past, he will then be bound to these new chains, which… which may be partially her doing. He knows she would want him to turn himself to the law. Even if he does not, he will through one way or another be bound to his transgressions. Even if she does not see it, she knows he tortures himself for what he has been forged into doing.

Above all, she knows, she herself is one of the foremost things holding him back. If not for her, he could’ve done so much more. Because she knows that, along the course of their quest, he has unintendedly begun to care for her, just as she has for him. And this, she knows, holds him back, the same way it has held her back. She dreads the increasingly closer deadline of their encounter with the Phantom Scythe leader for this very reason—because the story doesn’t end, and they will have to face the consequences. They know, though, no matter what the consequence, they cannot remain together.

And maybe it would have been fine, if they have stuck to partners in crime. But they have allowed themselves to fall for the other. Now, the mere thought of ending the journey sounds unbearable, and it sounds impossible to face reality.

Lauren Sinclair knows that one day, when this is all over and they’ve faced what needs to be faced, that Kieran White will leave. He must; after all, staying will only bring him more pain, because the mere sight of her is a reminder of everything in his life that he wishes to leave behind. Ardhalis has ruined him so, and she is a child of Ardhalis unlike any other. Kieran White, as she has come to notice, belongs in the free. 

Kieran White is much like the sea; beautiful, relaxing, and yet she cannot hold on to it.

But Lauren Sinclair is selfish, and she cannot allow herself to let go so easily.

She does not notice that a tear has escaped the corner of her eye, a glistening stream down her cheeks. Kieran looks too miserable, looking at the sea and yet not being able to swim in it, yet he keeps up a smile on his face. He must be used to it, anyway. But she does not like this sight of him. He deserves true freedom, and it pains her to know that true freedom includes freedom from her.

Kieran notices her, and does not seem so surprised. He wipes the tears off her cheeks, eyes downturned in emotions just as despondent as hers, lips parted in a soft grin. He soon finds the intensity of their proximity too unbearable, and stands up, proceeding to stare at the horizon as he has been doing.

Lauren slowly stands up as well, and holds a tentative hand on his arm. “You don’t… have to hold back with me,” she breathes, but the sound of her whisper is amplified in the idyllic night.

“I won’t stop you.”

_From leaving._

He smiles wryly, catching the words she never gets to say. The words are honest, but it doesn’t mean she does not want to. She doesn’t want him to leave. She wants to stop him.

Just as Kieran is about to turn around and head in for the night, Lauren shoots out a hand to his cheek and pulls him towards her, standing on her toes to peck a brief kiss against his jaw. 

Kieran’s body tenses under the contact, but he does not show his surprise. As always, he masks it—because of course, it is easier to mask his emotions, in the knowledge that he will have to leave one day, and Kieran has always been more rational in the long run, in comparison to Lauren.

Lauren wants to scream to the sea, who she knows will accept her frustrations as it is, no questions asked. She wants to yell, wants to cry, wants to drown her tears in the sea, because it will not make much of a difference anyway. She wants to rid herself of the emotions in her and get through what they have to without having to feel _so much_ for her partner, who she knows she cannot have.

The nights are not so kind to the both of them. The cold air and glaring silver moonlight reminds them of the reality that life is harsh, that there is no forgiveness to those who have done wrong, that in the end, they will have to pay. Children of the moon, as they may be, they are in paramount children of loneliness, of sorrow and pain that cannot be undone.

Yet in the midst of everything, they found their way to each other. And though this, too, will be their punishment in the end, at least for now, in the nights where monsters and wraiths prevail, they’ve got each other to hold on to.

_Any last bit of positivity will do._

**Author's Note:**

> have a short author's note for a change:
> 
> thanks for reading <3


End file.
